Of All The Mirrors
by Mandolina Lightrobber
Summary: Of all the mirrors I have seen, yours is the worst. Cracked. Broken. Beyond repair. /Trustshipping. Ishizu x Seto/


**A/N:** For Season 9 of the YGO fic contest here on ff-net. The pairing is Trustshipping – Seto Kaiba x Ishizu Ishtar.

I have no excuses for this.

**Disclaimer:** Kazuki Takahashi and all associated companies are the rightful owners of the Yuugiou! franchise and I claim no association with any of them. No copyright infringement intended with this and no money is being made from this. Please support the creator by purchasing the official releases.

**Warnings:** character death.

* * *

><p><strong>Of All The Mirrors<strong>

**(Yours is the worst.)  
><strong>

To her credit, Ishizu didn't scream. Even when a large hand tangled in her hair, yanking painfully and forcing her head back so far it felt like her neck would snap, even when her arm was twisted behind her back, she kept her silence. The recently uncovered tablet from a newly found burial chamber within a crumbling pyramid carrying an engraved image of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon toppled over, shattering against the marble floor of the museum hall that was slowly turning into hell incarnate.

Two museum guards and three workers were lying dead on the ground, blood slowly spreading under their bodies – except for one who had had his neck broken. Mokuba Kaiba, who had followed his brother to the private exhibit on Ishizu's invitation, was being held up by his hair so that his toes barely touched the ground. His right arm dangled at his side, broken. Seto was being restrained by two men, one eye slowly swelling and blood seeping from his split lip. He received a kick to the back of his knee, bringing him down further. It didn't stop the CEO from threatening pain eternal onto those who were hurting his brother.

Ishizu saw something red flash out of the corner of her eye, but it was gone as soon as she had spotted it. The man holding Mokuba up shook him by the hair and wrenched his good arm behind his back, bringing him back in solid contact with the ground.

"Behave, or your brother dies," the man grunted at Mokuba in heavily accented English.

Because Seto wouldn't shut up, he received a hard punch in the face and a simultaneous kick to the stomach from two other men who had just entered the private hall. One of them pulled out a knife and approached Mokuba, regarding him as though he were an animal brought for slaughter.

"This is just," he told him, setting the edge of the knife against the teen's throat; his English no better than that of the previous speaker. "This is payment. For the all deaths you company made us suffer in our land."

"Seto," Mokuba whispered in terror, locking eyes with his brother. They both realised the same thing – these people weren't Amelda; they weren't under the influence of Orichalcos that could be broken, whether Seto believed its power or not; they couldn't be reasoned with, or duelled for it. "Seto."

Seto wondered if, maybe, Amelda was behind this. He considered the possibility of the redhead having come back for revenge, again. And if, this time, he would succeed. He cursed.

Ishizu didn't scream when the knife cut into Mokuba's throat, though a startled gasp slipped past her parted lips. Seto did scream. He struggled against the arms holding him kneeling down, but they were stronger. Threats and curses and his brother's name mixed on his tongue, coming out as a strangled howl of pain and fury.

"Now you know pain we had. Now you feel."

Mokuba didn't have the time to scream. One swift motion across his neck ended his life.

"_Let's__ go.__ Quietly,__ through__ the__ back_," the leader of the rogue avengers instructed his men in their own language. They were going to make a statement with this kidnapping and the killings. They wouldn't let the world forget the pain Kaiba Corp and those like it had inflicted on their country. They would never forget their two-faced actions of selling weapons to both sides.

"_What __of__ the__ woman?_" asked the one holding Ishizu.

The leader gave her a sweeping look. "_We__ take__ her__ with.__ She's__ seen__ our__ faces.__ We__ can__ use__ her._"

Though Ishizu didn't understand their language – neither did Seto – she could instinctively guess the meaning behind the last words from the way the men looked at her. They pulled her after Seto, who had been knocked out cold for easier handling, down the familiar corridors of the museum and to the back where a nondescript van with tan windows was already waiting for them.

.

Ishizu stopped mid-sentence and shook her head, trying to clear it from the flashes that had suddenly intruded her mind. Every now and then she would get these sweeping flickers of events even though she no longer possessed the Tauk with its future-seeing ability. Sometimes she wondered if it was the after-effect of the item.

Seto had only been half-listening to her. All of his attention was focused on the large stone tablet propped up in a makeshift stand while the conservation works were in their final stages. It had been due to be put inside a glass casing this same day and the workers had been doing exactly that before Seto had come barging in – two days early for the opening of the exhibit of the new findings from a recently uncovered tomb. The Blue-Eyes White Dragon held too much power over him, in its own way.

When the door to the private hall opened, Ishizu turned to see Mokuba walking in with two of the museum's guards in tow. Following his enthusiastic greeting, several things happened at once. A round of gunshots laid down the two guards and two of workers Ishizu had known for years, another one having his neck broken with a sickening crack. His falling body fell against the side of the stone tablet, sending it falling. A large hand tangled in Ishizu's hair, yanking her head back, and when she tried to turn to see who it was, her arm got twisted behind her back, restraining her movements. Two men launched themselves at Seto, wrestling him down of one knee. A man, who previously had worked on securing the stone tablet inside a wooden frame, leapt forward trying to grab Mokuba, but only getting a fistful of his hair because the teen had rushed forth to aid his brother. The man tightened his grip and yanked on his hair, forcing Mokuba to stumble back and stand on his toes.

To her credit, Ishizu didn't scream.


End file.
